


come on now, say what you wanna say

by tmylm



Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Jealousy, Pining, Smut, Triple Treble - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-23
Updated: 2020-07-23
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:35:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25465624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tmylm/pseuds/tmylm
Summary: Have you ever been so jealous that you literally wind up having a threesome with your fwb and their fwb for the night? Pfft, neither has Beca. Duh.Title from Demi Lovato'sGames.
Relationships: Chloe Beale/Beca Mitchell, Chloe Beale/Beca Mitchell/Aubrey Posen
Comments: 28
Kudos: 154





	come on now, say what you wanna say

**Author's Note:**

> Predominantly a Bechloe story, but enjoy some additional triple treble smut in the middle there.

There is a part of Beca, a secret, internal part of her, screaming uncontrollably into the neverending void, wondering how in the name of ever-loving fuck she has gotten here; how her wide eyes are currently taking in the sight of _Aubrey Posen’s_ entirely bare, exposed chest. And, more importantly, _why_ isn’t it freaking her the fuck out?

But the larger part of her, the part that can feel an incessant ache building between her tightly clenched thighs, knows exactly why this is happening. Beca knows that she is jealous; she is ridiculous and jealous, and she doesn’t know why she can’t just admit that she wants more from Chloe Beale than just the temporary feeling of ecstasy that courses through her entire being whenever Chloe’s face is buried so deliciously between her legs.

Maybe they wouldn’t be here, the three of them desperately undressing one another with eager, trembling hands, if Beca could just admit to her feelings aloud. If she hadn’t brushed off the incoming conversation this morning, the one where Chloe had hinted at something more than just sex between the two of them with a pathetic change of subject as Beca had been coming down from the euphoric morning high Chloe had caused, maybe things would be different now...

Wow, Beca realizes, from start to finish, this day has just _not_ gone in the direction she had expected.

She also cannot help but notice, however, as trembling fingers fumble hurriedly with the button holding together the waistband of her skinny jeans, that she is _so_ not complaining.

* * *

Beca is kind of over college parties. Honestly, the novelty had worn off somewhere around the start of sophomore year, when Beca had registered the repetition. It is kind of an unspoken rule, however, that the Bellas all attend parties together each week, so Beca tends to find herself forced to attend lame gathering after lame gathering regardless.

Tonight’s has been even more eagerly anticipated than most, though, because a celebrity guest will be in attendance… Okay, so it’s Aubrey, but to hear the way half of the girls have been squawking all day about their excitement to welcome back their former captain for the evening while she visits during a rare weekend off work, anyone would think Beyonce was going to show.

Beca can give or take Aubrey. They really had not started out on the best of footing, and while things had improved somewhat over time, Beca had never really forgotten Aubrey’s initially cruel treatment, so even now, she really can give or take her. She is happy, however, for the distraction, especially following this morning’s almost-conversation.

“When are we just going to start calling this what it is?” Chloe had murmured thoughtfully, heavy lids fluttered shut as she’d basked in the feeling of post-orgasm bliss.

Beca could still taste Chloe on her lips, still hear the melodic sound of her repetitive, pleasured moans as they echoed so beautifully through her foggy mind.

Her own eyes, previously closed, had shot open at the mere sound of the question. It is not uncommon for Beca’s heart to race as she lays so closely beside Chloe, able to see the way her bare chest rises and falls at a faster pace from the corner of her eye. Her hammering heart had done so for an entirely different reason then, though, and while Beca hadn’t actually responded, and simply stared at Chloe in an air of horror that Chloe fortunately could not see from behind her closed lids, it had been clear that she had been painfully aware of her reaction.

“Forget it,” Chloe had hummed, corners of her lips curving upward slightly into a small smile that Beca had not been fully able to read. “I know you feel it, Bec,” she continued as she’d shifted to rise from the tangled sheets in which the two of them had laid together only moments before, “I know you do.”

Beca had changed the conversation as promptly as she could, openly ignored Chloe’s mumbled, blissful words. They have looped through her mind all day, of course, but Beca feels like she has done well to ignore them, the same way she has proceeded to point blank ignore Chloe’s obvious disappointment in reaction.

All things considered, perhaps the party isn’t the absolute _worst_ thing. At least it’s providing a pretty solid distraction; Beca doesn’t have to think about she and Chloe’s earlier conversation (she’s totally thinking about it), and Chloe doesn’t have to mope. She has Aubrey to keep her occupied… Something that, upon her wandering gaze landing on the two of them huddled with a few others around a bottle (yeah, seriously, _spin the bottle_ ), Beca notes she is doing pretty damn well.

It is the sound of obnoxious cheering and playful squeals that even draws Beca’s focus toward the circle in the first place, and immediately, she cannot help but wish that it hadn’t.

It’s not like Beca owns Chloe. They’re nothing more than two friends who like to sleep together sometimes, that’s all. Though, seeing her stretched across the small group of people, lips locked intensely with none other than Aubrey Posen’s, Beca cannot help but briefly see red. Approaching is a terrible idea, it means getting an even closer view, but Beca’s feet seem to carry her without permission, until she is standing right beside the cheering, excitable circle.

“Wow,” Beca hears Chloe softly comment as she and Aubrey part from their liplock. There is a gentle smirk tugging at the corners of her mouth, one that Beca recognizes immediately. “You’re a really good kisser.”

“I feel like I should be offended that you seem so surprised,” Aubrey states, though there is a look of amusement drawing itself onto her expression, and Beca can see the way Aubrey’s pale cheeks have reddened slightly, too.

Beca should walk away. She doesn’t want to play spin the bottle, and she certainly doesn’t want to watch Chloe play it. However, the unfortunately familiar feeling of strong hands planting firmly onto her shoulders keeps her rooted to the spot, and Beca openly winces as she feels Jesse’s fingers squeeze down.

“Spin the bottle?” Jesse questions, amused chuckle leaving his lips. He finally releases his hold on Beca’s shoulders, instead patting her on the back, before shimmying around her to join the circle. “How old are we?” In spite of his question, he shuffles comfortably into position, having already drawn unwanted attention to Beca’s presence.

“Oh!” Chloe chirps, scooting over to make a gap beside her. She pats the new spot in such a confident way that Beca feels as though she doesn’t have much of a choice but to take it. “Come on, you can squeeze in here.”

Again, her body seems to be working independently from her mind, because Beca wants to say no, but before she can even form the verbal response, she has begun to slot herself into place beside Chloe, who responds with a cheerful grin.

The thought enters Beca’s mind, as Chloe leans over to take her turn, that she is at something of a disadvantage sitting beside her—how often does the person spinning land on the one sitting directly beside them? She shakes off the thought just as quickly, however; it really shouldn’t matter whether Chloe lands on her or not. They’re just friends, after all… Beca made that clear enough this morning.

Beca really doesn’t need to think about that, though, and the eventual sound of excited squealing is what finally pulls her from her own thoughts.

“Damn, let someone else play,” Cynthia Rose teases, her words pulling Beca’s focus toward the bottle’s nose. It points directly at Aubrey, who has already begun to lean her upper body forward the same way as Chloe’s. Instead of the fairly innocent peck Beca had previously witnessed, this time, Chloe reaches out a hand to delicately cup her fingers to Aubrey’s cheek, and from her close position, Beca can see the way Chloe’s lips part as they push against Aubrey’s in a way that looks much too comfortable for them already.

A harsh wave of... _something_ —it is not jealousy; Beca won’t even entertain the idea of jealousy—crashes intrusively through Beca’s body. She wants to look away. So badly, she wants to look away, but like a particularly messy train crash, she finds that she can’t.

Beca doesn’t know whose voice it is exactly, but she registers the playful sound of someone telling them to _get a room_ , followed by the distinct sound of Bumper Allen of all people—seriously, he graduated already, _why_ is he always here?—muttering through a gawking smirk, “Only if I can join.”

While Amy takes care of his comment with a swift whack to his forearm, Beca openly scoffs in response. It is timed perfectly for Chloe to lean back into her spot, and to glance toward Beca with an arched brow and confused sounding, “What?”

“Nothing,” Beca responds instantly, “That wasn’t—” Her explanation doesn’t seem to matter, though; Chloe has already shrugged and gone back to paying attention to the game.

Spin the bottle is pointless; it’s basically just swapping mouth germs with people you’d never even consider kissing were it not for physics and the direction of an empty bottle, but it almost feels more weird for Beca to get up and leave now, especially following her outward scoff. So, she endures, and finds that she is silently pleased when Aubrey takes her turn and lands on someone other than Chloe.

Beca winds up kissing two people, both quick pecks that will be easily forgotten, before the circle erupts into amused, excitable squeals as Chloe takes her next turn where, once again, the bottle lands on Aubrey. She tells herself not to look, though she cannot help but register the smirks on their faces as they both lean across the middle, and all it takes is for someone to start chanting the word _tongue_ for Chloe’s lips to part and Beca to see the way her tongue slides obediently along Aubrey’s bottom lip.

That, Beca decides, is her cue to leave.

“Seriously, about that room…” she hears Cynthia Rose joke as she begins to push herself up from the floor.

“No need,” Beca murmurs to herself in a way intended for nobody else’s ears as she scoots to her feet, “They’re practically fucking right here anyway.”

She doesn’t stick around to see them finally part, and nobody seems to so much as bat an eyelid at Beca’s departure.

* * *

While Beca proceeds to mingle for the next hour or so, she finds herself clock-watching on multiple occasions. Really, she is just waiting for an acceptable time to finally leave. It is barely ten-thirty, but Beca is sure she could probably slip out the door relatively inconspicuously without anybody trying to stop her. However, she doesn’t get the chance to, not before she feels the familiar feeling of slender fingers grasping loosely at her hip.

“I didn’t even get to kiss you,” Chloe murmurs quietly, volume only loud enough for Beca to hear. She whirls around quickly to see the knowing smirk settled on Chloe’s lips, and tries to ignore the thought that maybe they look a little kiss-swollen.

“Spin the bottle is stupid,” Beca says with a blank expression. She tries to make it sound like she doesn’t care—because she totally doesn’t, duh—as she adds, “You were busy enough with Aubrey, anyway.”

There is a flash of something in Chloe’s familiar blue eyes as she tilts her head in response, almost like she’s smirking without even moving her lips. “Does that bother you?”

 _Yes_ , Beca’s mind instantly, silently answers for her. Outwardly, of course, she simply wrinkles her nose, head shaking in response, “No… Why would it?”

Chloe is drinking something—vodka cranberry, most likely...not that Beca takes note of Chloe’s favorite drink order or anything—through a straw. She brings it to rest between her lips as her shoulder shrugs gently, and Beca cannot help the way her eyes follow it momentarily. “I guess it wouldn’t,” Chloe eventually hums, her tone nonchalant. She disappears with a genuine, “Well, have fun!”, and Beca hopes that now she can finally make her escape.

Leaving is never as easy in practice as it is in theory. Ideally, Beca would slip out of the door unnoticed, but they really are a pretty small community, the kind where everyone knows everyone. So, she is stopped by numerous people who are apparently just desperate to converse with her. At least another twenty minutes pass by before she is able to even think about ducking out.

The thing to catch her attention once she eventually does begin to make her way to the door, however, is something that stops her dead in her tracks.

“I think they were joking about us getting a room, Chlo,” Beca hears the sound of Aubrey’s light, breathy laugh to her right.

She snaps her head in its direction to take in the sickening sight of Aubrey and Chloe, fingers tangled tightly together, beginning to ascend the stairs. Their bodies are facing one another’s with Aubrey walking backward and Chloe’s arm looped around her neck to help guide her.

“We can stay down here,” Chloe says with a small shrug, though Beca can see, even from behind, the way Chloe is grinning up at Aubrey’s knowing stare. Aubrey responds with a small smirk and a soft shake of her head, fingertips grasping playfully at Chloe’s waist.

“Seriously?” Beca finds herself muttering in disbelief as she stares, bewildered, at the same train crash, only this time it is ten times more intense, and far too involved as it makes its way up the stairs and likely to the privacy of one of the bedrooms.

Should Beca follow? No, of course she shouldn’t. However, it seems that her feet are working independently again, because like a woman possessed, she has soon begun to shuffle toward the stairs. It is almost like all of her unjustified worst fears are confirmed as she takes in the sight of Aubrey pressed up against the door, with Chloe’s body leaning into her and reaching around her to push it open.

Aubrey’s eyes have closed with the feeling of Chloe’s soft, parted lips pushing messy, uncalculated kisses to the exposed skin of her neck, though her lids flutter open briefly to let her register the fact that they are not alone.

“Beca,” Aubrey says in something akin to surprise. She seems to jump slightly, with Chloe quickly pausing to glance over her shoulder.

“Uh, yeah,” Beca says, gaze moving downward to stare anywhere but at the two women pressed against the door. It registers to her that this is creepy as hell, the fact that she has not only followed them, but is literally watching them, and Beca knows it is time to leave. “Yeah, I was just, uh...just had to use the bathroom,” she stammers, shifting awkwardly on the spot.

Despite the fact that she is not actively looking at them anymore, she can see from the corner of her eye the way Chloe turns her face toward Aubrey. She sees the knowing smirk to tug at Aubrey’s lips, and notes the way her head nods once in response to what seems to be a silent request.

“Bec,” Chloe says in a softer voice, the familiar sound drawing Beca’s gaze directly toward her face as Chloe turns toward her, “Do you want to join us?”

Instantly, Beca’s eyes widen in response.

“You don’t have to,” Chloe adds quickly, easily stepping away from Aubrey’s now loose hold. Beca knows those eyes, she knows that distinct look in them as they shine beneath slightly hooded lids—it is a look Beca has received so many nights before, after all. Chloe’s bottom lip tugs in between her teeth, and her shoulder shrugs gently as she continues to eye Beca in that same way, that way that oozes with unbridled desire, “But if you want to, you can.”

* * *

Beca has never had a threesome before. Hell, before Chloe, Beca had never even slept with a woman before. Her sexual experiences prior to that were pretty minimal, in fact. So, Beca has never had a threesome before, she has no business partaking in one, but the sharp spread of heat to rush between her legs beneath Chloe’s lust-filled stare ensures that she doesn’t instantly deny the offer.

However, it is the fast realization that, if she doesn’t join, Chloe and Aubrey are going to do this anyway, that eventually seals the deal for her. There is a momentary shared look of brief surprise as Beca allows her feet to draw her closer, before she soon finds herself tugged through the door with it closed tightly behind her, heart hammering as her lips press hungrily back against Chloe’s incoming kiss.

(She was right before, about the vodka cranberry.)

And Beca wonders how this is happening; she wonders how the hell she isn’t freaking out more as Chloe’s hand guides Aubrey’s fingers around her middle and to the button of Beca’s jeans, or how she isn’t coming to a screeching halt as Chloe tears her lips away to instead turn and eagerly, desperately remove Aubrey’s shirt.

Unlike the movies (mhm...), it is not some straightforward, easy transition from the door to the nearby bed—fortunately, Beca is a little too preoccupied to think about how she doesn’t actually know _whose_ bed it even is. In reality, it is a mess of fumbling hands grasping haphazardly at items of clothing before Beca can talk herself out of it, and stumbling feet falling over one another in the process. It is not a giggly, experimental shuffle as nervous hands dare themselves the right to explore; instead, it is breathy and needy, and in Beca’s case, even somewhat possessive. She _needs_ to be touching Chloe, and for some reason, maybe just because Chloe is, she finds that she needs to be touching Aubrey, too.

Inexplicably, Beca wonders if the latter is okay; she wonders if Chloe will be okay with Beca’s hands exploring somebody who is not her, and ventures a brief glance toward her as Chloe drops her discarded bra out of the way.

And Beca realizes, as she takes in that specific look in those darkened, envious eyes, that she doesn’t care if it is okay with Chloe. In fact she _wants_ her to hate it, wants to make Chloe just as jealous as Beca had been feeling only moments before.

Maybe it is unfair, considering she is the only one standing in the way of she and Chloe being what they really are, that Beca wants to elicit that sensation of jealousy from within Chloe. But, she does, and Beca makes a point of watching Chloe from the corner of her eye as Aubrey, oozing with liquid courage, curls a hand around the back of Beca’s neck, pulling her closer until their lips are pressing firmly against each other’s.

“God,” Chloe breathes quietly as she watches on, and while Beca cannot see her, she notes that there is a distinct level of hunger to her tone as Aubrey sinks back into the mattress, tugging Beca’s top half down with her in the process.

Considering panties are now the only barrier in sight, it would be incredibly easy for Beca to take this further, to lift her hand and experimentally cup her fingers around Aubrey’s bare breast. But, she is still feeling this out, still trying to ease into the idea of being with another person who is not Chloe, while Chloe is literally there, too. Even more so because that other person is Aubrey Posen.

So, Beca focuses on the new feeling of Aubrey’s soft lips pressing against her own. She takes in the new taste, the sensation of an unfamiliar tongue sliding experimentally along her bottom lip, until Beca’s mouth forms a gap to stroke her tongue against Aubrey’s in a way that pulls a soft whimper from the back of her throat.

While still, of course, hyper aware of Chloe’s presence, of her lingering eyes and trembling hands, Beca doesn’t know exactly what she is doing. It is the feeling of a small gasp vibrating against her lips, the sound again new and unfamiliar to Beca, that has her pulling back to stare down at the sight of Chloe’s hand pushed confidently beneath the fabric of Aubrey’s panties. Beca can see the way it moves, she can see her fingers rubbing beneath the damp material, and Beca can practically _feel_ the way they slide with such ease over sensitive flesh, the same way they do when Chloe is touching her.

It occurs to her that they are apparently getting right down to business without the need for foreplay, but considering the very sight causes a warm spread of heat between Beca’s clenched thighs, she realizes that they really don’t need it—evidently, this is a turn on for all three of them, something Beca would’ve truly never expected. Additionally, though, the way Aubrey’s legs part to invite Chloe’s fingers in more prominently sends a flash of envy right the way through her core.

Beca doesn’t get to dwell on it for too long, though, not before long fingers are settling beneath her chin, until Chloe can guide Beca’s face toward her own. Although she had kissed Chloe just this morning, it is like Beca has been waiting for this for an eternity, the familiar feeling of Chloe’s soft lips crashing hungrily against her own.

And, God, Beca wants to touch her. Even more so because she knows Chloe is touching Aubrey, knows that her fingers are doing things that Beca likes to pretend are reserved only for her. She can feel the way Chloe’s fingers speed up with the movement of her arm, she can hear it in Aubrey’s verbal reactions. It isn’t until she hears the sound of Chloe’s name spilling from Aubrey’s lips, though, that Beca’s internal fire is fully ignited, and suddenly desperate fingers are grasping needily at Chloe’s bare hip to twist her body closer toward her own.

Beca isn’t normally so dominant in the bedroom. Normally, if either of them is leading the way, it is generally Chloe, but Beca’s knee slips between Chloe’s parted thighs now to push them further open, until she can trail a flattened palm down Chloe’s lower stomach, fingertips dipping beneath the fabric of her underwear.

Instantly, Beca notes the way arousal drips from Chloe’s aching pussy. It coats Beca’s finger entirely, before she begins to drag the tip slowly through swollen folds, immediately spreading her further apart. The low moan Chloe lets out is pretty instantaneous, and in spite of her lingering jealousy, there is also something strangely arousing to Beca about the idea that Chloe’s fingers are working Aubrey up in the same way.

Although she didn’t know whether she would actually go through with this at first, it really has gone from zero to one hundred, but Beca is not complaining. She is not complaining as the mixed sounds of two separate voices moaning into the air around them fill her ears, nor is she complaining as the feeling of an exploring hand begins to trail almost desperately along her chest, until a thumb and finger are taking a gentle hold of her instantly stiffening nipple.

Beca knows Chloe’s hands, she knows Chloe’s touch, but much too caught up in the moment, in the feeling of her fingers slipping so easily through wet, swollen folds, she admittedly doesn’t know exactly who is touching her right now. It is not until she registers the distinct feeling of Chloe’s fingers wrapping loosely around the back of her neck in an effort to pull her face closer to deepen their kiss that Beca realizes it is Aubrey. Aubrey is touching her, Aubrey is the one rolling her increasingly hardening nipple so expertly between her thumb and finger, and God, Beca doesn’t mind it one bit.

There are a lot of changing positions, a lot of hands desperately grasping at unfamiliar body parts. Half the time, Beca doesn’t even know whose lips are against her own, too caught up in the moment to differentiate outside of the sounds of high pitched gasps and gentle moaning.

It is not until Beca is laid against the mattress, chest moving at a faster pace, that she is able to get her bearings. The feeling of full, parted lips making their way messily down her body, over that one patch of sensitive skin on her hip that always makes Beca shudder with pleasure, is unmistakably Chloe’s. The way her hair, curled and unruly now, tickles Beca’s thighs is familiar, as are the long fingers that loop beneath the fabric of her panties until they can begin to tug them down her trembling things.

And Beca never really thought anyone would find out about she and Chloe, never thought she’d ever let anybody know, much less allow Chloe to nudge her legs apart in the presence of another person, until the unmistakable feeling of Chloe’s tongue pressing to her already aching clit pulls an instant moan from the back of Beca’s throat.

The sound is drowned out by Aubrey’s lips, messy and hungry, pressing against her own, and Beca finds that she doesn’t hesitate to accept the now more familiar kiss. Almost instantaneously, her lips part to slide her tongue against Aubrey’s, the whole while losing herself in the feeling of Chloe’s tongue working her up in the specific way that only Chloe Beale knows how.

“Fuck,” Beca murmurs against Aubrey’s lips, fingers tangling their way through Chloe’s as a hand reaches out instinctively for her touch. It is impossible to describe the way she is feeling; Beca is feeling everything all at once. Any doubts that may have tried to claw their way into her mind are gone with each new swipe of Chloe’s pointed tongue against her clit, of long fingers curling their way inside of her dripping cunt.

Beca’s verbal reactions have picked up, drowned out only by Aubrey’s mouth against her own, and it is clear that she is reaching the peak of all she can take. She thinks she hears Aubrey mumble something against her lips, but it isn’t until she repeats herself that Beca can properly make out the whispered instruction to “Come… Come for her, Beca. Come for Chloe.”

She doesn’t need to be told so, of course. The feeling of Chloe’s tongue moving against her, of her fingers curving against slick, tightening walls, paired with the sound of Chloe’s name on Aubrey’s lips all manages to tip Beca easily over the edge, until Chloe is taking her time to expertly clean Beca up, to take in every last drop of that well earned post-orgasm reward.

Beca doesn’t know how this is supposed to end. She does know that she is pretty spent, though, but that doesn’t keep her from feeling as though she could come all over again as she literally watches Chloe get Aubrey off right there in front of her, fingers sunk the whole way into Aubrey’s pulsing cunt.

That jealousy flares within her again, harshly and undeniably, but Beca cannot help but take some significance from the fact that Chloe doesn’t go down on Aubrey. Beca tells herself, mentally and comfortingly, that Chloe’s mouth, the things she does so expertly with her tongue, are reserved only for Beca.

Eventually, their movements slow, until they are all left panting and softly whimpering into the stillness of the room around them. It is the first chance Beca has really gotten to digest what is happening, the first time she has thought of the prospect of consequences, whatever they may be.

There is a shared moment of quiet amongst their heavy breathing, and Beca wonders if both Chloe and Aubrey are finally taking in the severity, too. She wonders if they’re freaking out, wonders why she isn’t freaking out more. It is only at that point that Beca even registers the feeling of Chloe’s hand still clutching protectively onto her own, anchoring her down like the most comforting safety blanket, and suddenly Beca realizes why she isn’t panicking as much as she should be.

Chloe is here. This has just happened, this has actually, _really_ just happened, but through it all, Chloe is here. And Beca realizes, denial be damned, that that is really all she needs.

* * *

Boldness, especially in a situation such as this one, is incredibly uncharacteristic for Beca. So, it is not surprising that she sinks quickly back into her shell once it becomes clear that the moment is over and they are done here. Chloe makes conversation, mostly by means of telling them how much she’d enjoyed it, and Aubrey agrees a little more bashfully. Beca, on the other hand, doesn’t verbally respond, though she does offer a shy smile and a small nod of her head in agreement.

Although perhaps a little tipsy, none of them had been _drunk_ , but there is something very, very sobering about an impromptu threesome, especially with someone you’d considered something of a nemesis once upon a time. So, Beca isn’t so much in the party mood anymore. In fact, she doesn’t really know exactly what she’s feeling. She is feeling _something_ , she just...doesn’t know what.

Now dressed, Aubrey leaves the room first to rejoin the party, while Chloe hangs back to wait for Beca under the guise of struggling to fasten her jeans. She makes sure that Beca is okay before eventually disappearing, too.

Then, finally, Beca makes her way somewhat awkwardly downstairs to be met with the realization that everybody is too drunk right now to even notice anything odd. It is much easier, this time, for her to slip quietly out of the door.

It is not until Beca arrives back home to the stillness of the Bellas house, to the comfort of she and Amy’s shared room, that she finally allows herself to really reflect, to really take in exactly what has just happened. And Beca doesn’t regret it, she isn’t upset by the events of the past little while or anything, but she does find, as she changes into the oversized band tee she uses as a pajama shirt, that there is something of a strange feeling within her, something that perhaps doesn’t sit quite right.

The girls seem to filter back home soon after, Amy evidently spending the night at the Trebles house with Bumper (something Beca knows she’ll deny tomorrow), and Beca is grateful for the privacy of the room to herself for the night. She is appreciative of some alone time with her thoughts.

At least, she thinks she is, until the sound of Aubrey’s voice in casual conversation with Emily begins to echo down the hall, and Beca is reminded of the weekend’s sleeping arrangements.

Chloe is the only one who doesn’t have a roommate. She used to share with Aubrey, but after she graduated, Chloe got their room to herself. This weekend, however, with Aubrey visiting, they are back to their old arrangement, and Beca cannot help that swell of jealousy that begins to bubble within her at the very realization.

It keeps her awake, even as the buzz of chatter around the house begins to quieten down with the calmness of everybody drifting off to sleep. She thinks that it is justified, all things considered. Beca is tired, but her mind is working overtime, so she attempts to distract herself with a bit of mindless scrolling through various social media feeds. It really doesn’t have the desired effect, especially not when Beca sees the notification banner of an incoming text message from none other than the person already consuming her mind.

**Chloe  
** _are you sleeping?_

Briefly, Beca considers ignoring the message. It is not like she has her read receipts enabled like Chloe does, she could very easily pretend not to have seen it. Though, she realizes quickly that it is unfair to avoid her; it’s not like Chloe specifically chose the sleeping arrangements for any reason other than convenience, it is not like she is doing this purely to upset Beca.

So, Beca responds simply.

**Beca  
** _no, why?_

The same way she usually does, she finds herself watching their text message thread with expectant eyes, evidently awaiting Chloe’s response. However, a few minutes pass and it still has not appeared. Beca wonders if maybe Chloe has fallen asleep with her phone in her hand in the same adorable way she so often does… Or if Aubrey is distracting her in a way that Beca doesn’t want to think of, but now can think of nothing else.

The knock to her door comes only moments later. It is quiet and almost timid sounding, not unlike an Emily Junk arrival. It probably shouldn’t surprise Beca when the door opens and she is met with the sight of Chloe peeking her head into the room, but it does.

“Can I come in?” Chloe questions in a soft voice, already tiptoeing around the door in spite of her question.

Beca is already propped up slightly, though she pushes herself a little straighter now. “Sure,” she nods, naturally shuffling over without thought nor question. It is such a normal thing at this point for Chloe to crawl into her bed, usually in a not so subtle way to initiate sex, though Beca senses something different about it tonight. There is no urgency as Chloe slots herself down onto the mattress beside her, no instant kiss to her neck or wandering hand trailing with purpose along her hip. In fact, everything actually seems a little more cautious.

“I wanted to make sure you were okay,” Chloe says in a small voice that complements the quiet surrounding them.

“What?” Beca questions, nose wrinkling in confusion. It is not like what they did was a bad thing. Different, sure, but not inherently bad. “Yeah, I’m…why wouldn’t I be?”

Chloe shrugs a shoulder lazily, and Beca glances down at her as she sinks further back against the pillows. “I don’t know, I just…” Beca can see the way she bites back a small sigh. “You didn’t do that because you felt like you had to, right?”

Truth be told, it is not really something Beca wants to talk about. Again, not because it is a bad thing, just because it’s kind of a weird topic… People don’t discuss sex after the fact, right? Plus, it’s not like she and Chloe discuss their trysts usually—whenever Chloe tries to, Beca quickly shuts them down. They don’t need to talk; talking complicates things, and tonight has already gotten complicated enough.

However, Beca can understand Chloe’s concerns, she can understand why she’d feel the need to ask. So, she responds with a brief shake of her head and a simple yet sincere, “No. I wanted to.”

“Okay,” Chloe nods, “Good.”

She has more to say, Beca can tell that she has more to say, and as usual, Beca knows she needs to shut it down. “We don’t have to talk about this,” she frowns, staring down somewhat awkwardly at the blank screen of her phone as it rests uselessly in her lap. Her awkwardness is not for the reason it probably should be, it is not because they just had a casual threesome with their friend.

“You never want to talk about it,” Chloe mumbles with a twisted frown of her own.

“Um, that’s the first time we’ve ever done _that_ …” Beca points out, for some reason being difficult just for the sake of being difficult. It is not unlike Beca to retreat, to push up her defensive walls, so it is probably something Chloe is used to by now. In fact, she finds that she cannot hold back an unnecessarily snarky, “Why don’t you talk about it with Aubrey?”

“Beca, that’s not—” A small sigh escapes Chloe’s lips, and Beca sees her watching her from the corner of her eye. She finally relents with a quiet, mumbled, “I knew you were jealous.”

“Wasn’t that the intention?” Beca shoots back a little too quickly, walls still held up high, though she realizes that perhaps this is where her current sour mood has come from; she realizes that Chloe had specifically _tried_ to make her jealous, the same way Beca had tried to make Chloe jealous in return. It is perhaps unfair that it kind of bothers her.

“To begin with,” Chloe admits somewhat sheepishly, though Beca easily cuts her off before she can continue.

“And then you realized you actually wanted Aubrey,” she mumbles half petulantly, half defeatedly, as if she suddenly has it all figured out.

While Chloe pauses briefly, it is not to think over her answer. It is, instead, to study Beca’s expression, to look at her with an impossible mixture of both questioning and certainty as she tries to figure her out. “Beca, whose bed am I in right now?” Chloe finally asks.

Beca can feel Chloe’s stare burning into her. It is harsh enough that she finds it impossible to keep looking away, and eventually she finds herself turning her head to face her. She wishes she hadn’t, because instantly, those captivating eyes pull her right the way in. While she doesn’t respond, she does shrug a shoulder in defeat.

“Exactly,” Chloe mumbles, small sigh exhaling through her nose. “I don’t want Aubrey. I mean, I didn’t use her or anything.” When she pauses this time, it is clear Chloe is trying to figure out what to say, what she should actually divulge. “Aubrey knows how I feel about you, Beca,” she continues almost cautiously. “Hooking up was...it was just some harmless fun, it didn’t mean anything. Aubrey and I were both on the same page about it.”

Although she knows Chloe had more to say, Beca cannot help but zone in, fixated, on one particular part of her speech. She knows she probably shouldn’t draw attention to it, but she dares herself to ask regardless, “How you feel about me?”

Beca notes the way Chloe’s lips twist slightly at that, the way she sucks in the inside of her cheek as she curiously eyes Beca’s expression. “Beca, come on,” she finally says in a quiet yet sure sounding voice. “You know how I feel about you, you don’t need me to say it… In fact, you don’t even _want_ me to say it. Every time I try, you—”

“Feelings are messy,” Beca cuts in, though there is a distinct lack of conviction to her tone. It makes it easy for Chloe to take over again.

“But why do they have to be?” she asks in an almost subtly pleading tone. “Beca, you know how I feel about you,” Chloe repeats her earlier sentiment. “And you don’t have to say it out loud, but I know that you feel it, too.”

Chloe is right—about many things, in fact—but in this particular instance, Chloe is right, Beca doesn’t have to say it aloud. So, she doesn’t. She doesn’t say it with words, but the look she shoots Chloe’s way, the deafening silence to follow rather than an outward protest, it really is answer enough.

The silent exchange that follows is something that would usually terrify Beca. The intensity of the lingering, locked on eye contact makes Beca feel like Chloe is staring right into her mind, like those piercing blue eyes can read her thoughts so loudly and clearly. While it causes her heart to race, Beca finds that it doesn’t outright petrify her, not like it usually would.

“It’s late, Chlo,” Beca finally says in a quiet voice. It is not like she wants Chloe to leave, it’s just that Beca doesn’t know how to have this conversation right now. In fact, she doesn’t know if she’ll know how to have it ever.

Feelings complicate things, feelings make for vulnerability, and Beca has spent so long building up those hardened walls, the prospect of someone tearing them down scares her in a way that she cannot explain. So, Beca doesn’t know how to do this, she doesn’t know how to lay herself bare.

“I know,” Chloe eventually nods, though she shows no signs of climbing from the bed, and Beca doesn’t push any further. Again, she doesn’t want her to leave, and especially not to go back to Aubrey; she isn’t going to ask her to.

Beca almost says something. She almost bites the bullet and says something, but it proves too difficult for her to find the words. Not that it matters, because Chloe has already shuffled further beneath the comforter, evidently turning in for the night. So, Beca does the same. She turns slowly onto her side, back facing Chloe, and stretches out an arm to tap the dim light off completely.

It is a strange feeling, lying in the dark beside Chloe, and not experiencing a familiar arm draping over her middle. Normally, Chloe does it seemingly without thought, so nonchalantly that Beca doesn’t even question it. Perhaps she finds it inappropriate tonight, though, all things considered.

So, Beca just lays in the darkness, just listens to the soft, rhythmic sound of Chloe’s gentle breathing behind her, and finds that she takes great comfort in its familiarity.

And maybe it is the comfort of the darkness, or it is residual boldness left over from the party before. Maybe it took a literal threesome for her to finally open up… Or maybe it’s just Chloe; maybe it’s always just Chloe, just her mere presence pulling a certain sense of unparalleled safety washing over Beca regardless of the circumstances. Whatever the case, Beca finds herself whispering into the darkness, unsure of whether Chloe is still conscious or not, “You’re right, Chlo…” she pauses, eyes closing as she dares herself to go on in the quietest voice, “I feel it, too.”

Silence follows, a silence that is not uncomfortable nor tense, but that tells Beca perhaps Chloe is sleeping, perhaps she hasn’t heard her quiet confession. Beca doesn’t know whether she is happy or sad about the fact.

She does know, however, that her heart begins to race with the feeling of shuffling on the mattress behind her. She knows that she holds her breath as Chloe’s arm moves beneath the comforter to wind so effortlessly, so naturally across her middle, and Beca doesn’t even question it as her fingers part to allow Chloe’s the space to slot easily between them.

Despite her initial silence, Chloe finally whispers in return, “I know you do, Bec.” Carefully, and again so effortlessly, she tucks Beca’s body into her own, into the space against her that makes Beca feel so safe and protected, so sure that this is okay; so sure that nothing could be more okay, in fact. “I told you, I know you do.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, thanks for reading! [This is me](http://chloebeale.tumblr.com) ♡


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